Star Trek: Sexy, Possessive Vulcans
by IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: Sequel to "Damn, Possessive Hobgoblins". Basically the same story, but from Jim's POV. A woman hits on Jim at a bar, Spock rescues him, and poor Bones is caught in the middle. See warnings inside.


**STAR TREK**

**SEXY, POSSESSIVE VULCANS**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Pairing: **James T. Kirk/Spock

**Warnings: **Explicit sexual content (including rimming), explicit language, possessive/dominant!Spock, submissive!Jim, jealousy, OOC!Spock, top!Spock, bottom!Jim

**Disclaimer: **Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry, CBS and Paramount. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

* * *

Spock had been amused, at first. Though he denied it, even over their bond, Jim could tell. He was always more amused than annoyed when people flirted with Jim, though he'd been much quicker to anger in the beginning of their relationship. Of course, he'd been very good at hiding it, but over time Jim had gotten better and better at reading his partner.

Like if someone _kept _flirting with Jim over a significant period of time, Spock's lips would twitch downward, his body would go stiffer than usual, and he'd gravitated towards Jim's side like nothing could keep him away. In the very beginning it had usually taken an hour to get Spock acting out on his jealousy; these days it took at least four.

After they'd bonded, it had fallen from an hour to roughly ten seconds; Spock would give his Eyebrow of Doom, or his Death Glare, and the poor soul who'd thought it'd be a good idea to flirt with Captain Kirk would scamper away with their tail between their legs; sometimes literally. Thankfully the primitive behaviour that had been unlocked by Spock's mating cycle had slowly waned until Jim could comfortably flirt with people once more.

Again; it amused Spock more than anything. As long as the person didn't push, Spock would let Jim have his fun. Jim liked flirting; it was a way to connect to people, to calm them and make them feel happy. He had no desire to act on his teasing words. He only wanted _Spock_. Weird, yeah, but it had taken Jim all of four weeks to get over his mild panic and admit that Spock was worth the commitment; because if Jim couldn't have anyone else, then Spock couldn't, either. Nurse Chapel would keep her hands to herself, and visiting dignitaries would back off when Spock said that he was in a committed, romantic relationship. It was all good.

And it made Bones grit his teeth, thump his head against the table, and generally curse his entire existence when Jim went on and on about how much he _luurrveed _Mr Spock.

Jim smiled slightly at the memory of Bones finding out that he and Spock were together. There had been a, uh... accident, while Jim and Spock were having sex, and they'd had to tell Bones the whole story. Spock had gone into _way _too much detail, and Jim had been laughing too hard at the disgusted look on the doctor's face to feel embarrassed. That had come later, at his next physical, when Bones had had to repair the slight damage around Jim's, ah, _backside_, due to his and Spock's extra curricular activities. Not fun, that medbay visit.

Jim was brought from his musings by the woman- Lieutenant Clayton- declaring that she was going to the refresher. Jim sighed and pasted a fake smile on his face as the young woman wiggled her fingers at him and quickly disappeared into the gloom of the pub.

Jim immediately rounded on Bones. 'What the hell is happening?' he demanded.

'Well, Jimmy,' Bones smirked at him, and Jim scowled, 'it seems that you've got an admirer.'

_Lovely, _Jim thought with an eye roll. 'I've met plenty of _admirers_, Bones,' he retorted, 'and none of them touch my _thigh_.'

Bones just snorted, which _wasn't _what Jim wanted, damn it! He wanted Bones to fix it and fix it now! Spock's presence, which usually thrummed comfortably in the back of Jim's mind, where their bond had taken root, had slowly petered out until it disappeared completely about ten minutes ago. That usually meant that Spock was annoyed at Jim, or was doing something that he didn't want Jim to know about. Like hat time he'd made Jim a basketball in the science labs for Jim's birthday, as well as two hoops. He'd even gotten a few of the ensigns to help him draw up a basketball court, and instructed a whole heap more on the rules of Terran basketball so that Jim could play a game.

Spock was awesome, like that. He didn't understand why you'd celebrate one's birthday, but he conceded that it was Terran tradition, and that Jim enjoyed getting presents, so he'd done something illogical to make Jim happy. The sex that night had been _fantastic_.

Jim shook his head. _Focus, Jimmy, focus!_ he ordered himself. The point was that Jim could barely feel Spock through the bond, which meant that Spock had cut Jim off. He was still _there_- Jim would be able to tell if Spock had disappeared completely- he just wasn't letting any of his emotions through, or any of Jim's, in. which meant that Spock was _annoyed_, probably because Lt Clayton was _touching _Jim. Spock could handle people flirting with his bond-mate, but touching was a big no-no unless Spock or Jim had specifically said that it was okay.

Jim whined; goddamn it, he was gonna have to make Spock Plomeek soup every night, and rub his ears so that Spock curled up and purred like a cat, and only eat logically healthy food for, like, a _week_, to get back into Spock's good graces.

'Seriously?' Bones laughed. 'Since when do you get all uncomfortable over a woman hitting on you?'

'I don't care about the flirting,' Jim grumbled. 'It's the _touching _that I can't stand.'

'Why not?'

Jim didn't answer, but Bones didn't seem to need one. Spock had never liked people touching him; everybody knew that. No Vulcan _really _liked other beings touching them. But after Spock had gone through _pon farr_, it had _really _changed. An old, primal part of Spock- one that no amount of Surakian studies could squash- had been unlocked. In Spock's pointy, Vulcan head, Jim was _his_; his to touch, to hold, to kiss, to take care of, to protect. When somebody touched Jim, even in a friendly manner, Spock's warrior brain saw that as a challenge; someone was challenging him for Jim, for the right to _mate _with Jim.

Spock could admit, later, when his urges had been sated, that it was illogical. Spock knew that Jim would never leave him, and he knew that nobody could beat him in a physical fight if Jim really were in danger. But all logic flew out the window. Logic was overruled by primal behaviour, and so Spock would assert himself as Jim's _dominant _mate and ensure that everybody within a mile radius knew that Jim was _his_.

Jim liked it. A hell of a lot. He wouldn't have a few years ago, before Spock. But Jim figured that it was the bond, and _pon farr_, and being _t'hy'la_. Jim now saw Spock as his mate, too. Only _Spock _was allowed to touch him; only _Spock _was allowed to mate with him. Spock was his, and he was Spock's, and anyone who tried to get between them would find themselves facing down a very dangerous Vulcan.

Bones still looked far too pleased, which Jim didn't understand. Didn't he know what would happen if Spock suddenly showed up and saw this chick groping his mate? There would be snarling, and screaming, and Spock strangling some poor girl who didn't know better. Bones was a doctor, he was supposed to care!

About Jim. Not the girl. Jim needed help!

'Bones, help me!' he whined, squirming in his seat and glancing around. Maybe Lieutenant Clayton had fallen into one of the refreshers and wouldn't be coming back. Maybe Jim should just run, now, and find Spock and let Spock fuck him into the mattress.

'What do you want _me _to do?' Bones asked over his drink.

'I dunno!' Jim's hands flailed as he spoke. 'Switch seats with me before she gets back!'

Bones raised an eyebrow. Damn, why could everybody but Jim do that? He practised in front of the mirror and everything, but he just couldn't do it. 'And you think, what, that she won't notice we've swapped?'

Jim frowned. '_You _start hitting on her while I slip away.'

'She'd ignore me. And you're sittin' on the inside of the booth.'

Jim pouted. 'Kill her.'

'No,' Bones snorted.

'Why _not_?' Jim whined, like it was perfectly normal to ask a friend to murder someone for you. And, yes, Jim could admit that he was whining; he was uncomfortable and wanted his Vulcan, damn it.

'Hey, whine at her,' Bones suggested, 'it makes you sound like a toddler, and maybe she's not into underage men.'

'I hate you,' Jim's pout deepened and he slumped back in his seat. Bones was no help. Stupid best friends and their stupid humour.

'Just tell 'er you're in a relationship,' Bones shrugged.

'I _did_,' Jim sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had. Fourteen times (he'd counted). She hadn't seemed to care. Jim supposed that he'd have to drop the V-bomb; I'm mated to a Vulcan, and he'll rip your arms off if you touch me again. Ta! 'She said, "Oh, that's nice. So are your quarters on the space-station nice? I bet you have a big bed",' Jim added.

Bones cracked up laughing, which Jim didn't appreciate, but the doctor _clearly _didn't care.

Stupid, hypospray-weilding doctors.

Before Bones could make any other unhelpful suggestions, Lieutenant Clayton returned and slid into the booth beside Jim, smiling at him. Jim smiled weakly. She was a beautiful woman, he could admit, but she didn't do anything for him. He was only turned on by tall, lean, green-blooded half-Vulcans with pointy ears, smooth black hair, and chocolate brown eyes that showed every emotion. Also, they had to be named Spock. Otherwise it was a deal breaker.

_Mm, chocolate_, Jim thought with a small smile. Chocolate was nice... especially eaten off of Spock's taut stomach. And then Spock would lick the taste from Jim's mouth and get drunk off of it and lust, and he'd fuck Jim nice and hard, and then slow and sweet, until Jim was begging to come and completely exhausted.

Gods, he loved Spock. Sexy Vulcan, mm... best sex Jim had ever had. _Ever_. Which was saying something, what with his experience between the sheets.

Lieutenant Clayton curled up against Jim _again_, her eyelashes fluttering, her hand pressed to his arm. Jim winced and tried to slide back, but she almost had him plastered against the wall. He really, really didn't want to be rude and just shove her away. That was the kind of shit that would no doubt end up on his permanent record, like the time he'd saved his entire crew by agreeing to marry Spock in a local ceremony. Because the planet- Garlextaria- was part of the Federation, their marital ceremonies were legal on _all _Federation planets. Which meant that Jim and Spock had had to file paperwork to notify Starfleet of their relationship change. The fact that they were in a _real _relationship hadn't been taken as well as their new status as husbands.

_Space husbands_, Jim liked calling them. Spock preferred bond-mates, and Jim did, too, especially when Spock growled it during sex.

There was a pulse along their bond, and Jim frowned, squirmed again, which made Lieutenant Clayton seem to think that rubbing her knee against his was a good idea. Annoyance, sharp and clear, feeling like glass and tasting like vinegar, filled Jim's senses, and he almost missed Bones' attempts to get Lt Clayton's attention.

'Lieutenant Clayton?' he asked.

'The sparkly blue of your eyes is just _lovely_,' Clayton commented, ignoring Bones. Jim laughed uncomfortably. _Sparkly blue? _Was that a real colour?

'Lieutenant Clayton?' Bones tried again, and tapped the hand that wasn't feeling Jim up under the table.

Clayton was clearly irritated- Jim saw it in her eyes before she turned and smiled brightly at the doctor. 'Yes?'

'What ship did you say you were assigned to again?'

Jim couldn't remember, either. He'd been hoping, when she'd first sat down, that his "I'm in a relationship, sorry", would be accepted. Clearly, it hadn't been. She'd only grown more and more bold as the hour progressed.

'The _Amadeus Mozart_,' Clayton answered, irritation lacing her tone.

'Ah, good ship,' Bones said.

Jim had never heard of it; there were too many small vessels rushing around the galaxy for Jim to memorise. Spock probably knew.

Again, annoyance shot across the bond, followed by the spicy flavour of anger.

Jim frowned. Spock was angry. He was _very _angry, because he'd closed down their bond, but his emotions were still leaking through. That only happened when Spock felt something so deeply that none of his cool Vulcan logic could contain it.

Oh, boy...

Bones and Clayton must have continued talking, because when Jim finally managed to filter Spock's anger out, Clayton was facing him again, grinning, and Bones was rolling his eyes.

'Is it true that you were assigned the _Enterprise _as soon as you graduated?' she asked. 'Because I was sure that nobody could rise to the rank of captain that quickly.'

Jim's eyebrows twitched, but he managed to answer with a neutral tone. 'Ah, yeah, well, everyone knows what happened there. It isn't exactly a secret.'

'Of course,' Clayton beamed, 'it's still just so...'

'Fascinating?' Bones grunted, but she ignored him. Jim sent Bones his favourite "save me, Bones, you're my only hope!" eyes, which Bones usually ignored. Bastard. He always ignored him during meetings, too. And Bones was the _only _person who could draw Spock's attention away from Jim when he was annoyed; Bones always annoyed Spock more than Jim ever could.

'I hope _I _get assigned to the _Enterprise _after this tour,' Clayton was saying. 'The _Mozart _will be returning to Earth around the same time as the _Enterprise_, and I'm hoping to be promoted to Lieutenant-Commander. Do you think you'll be needing another scientist?'

'Erm,' Jim coughed and squirmed slightly to the left. Clayton, of course, followed, and Jim bit back a wince. 'Maybe?' Jim offered slowly. 'I mean, it's not up to me, is it?' he continued, hoping that she'd believe him. 'The applications have to go through the Admiralty, and then they'll be sent to me. And if nobody asks for a reassignment when we return to Earth, then there'll be no spots.'

It was true, of course, but Jim could ask for someone he _really _wanted. He didn't _really _want Lieutenant Clayton. Spock would kill her four days into their mission.

'Are you sure?' Clayton pouted. 'I have a lot of... _skills_.' She purred the last word, and Jim jolted when he felt her hand run up his thigh and squeeze far, _far _too close to his crotch.

'Um, I'm sure you do,' Jim replied, unable to keep the tension out of his voice, 'but really, I don't have that much of a say in where people get posted, you know? And I love my crew, they're great.'

Bones wasn't paying attention, and Jim glared at him, but Clayton once more caught his chin and made him face her. He shivered at the unfamiliar touch; ever since Spock's _pon farr_, it was like Jim had skin as sensitive as a Vulcan's. An unwelcome, or surprising, touch made Jim's skin crawl. Bones' touch was familiar and warm. Spock's touch made him feel safe and horny, depending on what Spock was projecting.

Clayton's touch was like someone rubbing a wet fish against his face. He couldn't feel her emotions- he _wasn't _a Vulcan, no matter what Bones muttered when he was in a mood (which was always)- but his bond still reacted badly to it.

Jim opened his mouth to try, _again_, to get the crazy, touchy woman off of him, when someone cleared their throat.

Jim's bond hummed, and his head snapped up, a grin spreading over his face when his bright blue eyes met Spock's dark brown ones.

Spock. Spock, Spock, _SpockSpockSpock_. He looked really, _really _hot in the all-black short-leave uniform, and his jacket was open, messy, leaving Jim's eyes free to run over the black shirt stretched tight over his firm chest and stomach.

Damn, Spock was gorgeous. All pale skin and dark eyes/hair. Jim wanted him. Now. On this table. He really wasn't picky.

'Captain,' Spock said, voice rich, deep, and... ooh, angry. Yup, he was _pissed_.

Jim probably shouldn't have found it has hot as he did. But, like Bones often said, he had issues; lost of 'em. But Spock loved him anyway.

Spock's eyes flicked to Bones only for a second, and he said, 'Doctor McCoy,' before turning his full attention on Jim once more.

Jim sat up straighter under Spock's intense stare, ignoring the, 'Yeah, hi,' Bones muttered.

Clayton had looked up, and smiled politely when she set her eyes on Spock. 'Hi there. I'm-'

'I do not care,' Spock interrupted. Bones snorted into his beer, and Jim couldn't stop grinning. His man was _fine_.

Lieutenant Clayton continued to stare at him. 'Excuse me?' she asked.

'I do not care who you are,' Spock said, dark eyes still on her.

Ooh, he was _really _pissed. Jim knew that he shouldn't, but a flicker of lust went through him, and he knew that Spock had felt it; his hands clenched at his sides, and he clearly wanted to look at his mate; Jim could tell. Instead, he kept his focus on Clayton.

'What I _care _about is your current position. You are, to use words my Captain prefers, "plastered to his side". I will only ask this politely _once_; please remove yourself from Captain Kirk.'

'What?' Clayton replied.

_Not good_, Jim thought.

'_Remove _yourself from my bond-mate's side, or I will be forced to do so for you,' Spock growled.

Jim shivered. Aww, yeah; he was gettin' some possessive sex tonight.

'Bond-mate?' Clayton asked and looked at Jim.

'I _did _tell you that I was in a relationship,' Jim chimed in. He knew that he was grinning stupidly, but could anyone really blame him? Well, Bones probably would, but _come on_; Spock was being all sexy and eloquent and _damn_, Jim wanted to ride him into the mattress. Or floor, table, _whatever._

'Yeah, but... with _him_?' Clayton asked, laughing shortly. 'He's a Vulcan.'

Spock's left eyebrow went up, and Jim shivered again, this time from the _anger-lust_ that floated over the bond from Spock. 'An astute observation, Miss,' he said, voice growly and still pissy.

'Well... _Vulcan_,' Clayton repeated, like that'd help. She still had her hand on Jim's shoulder, and Jim saw his First Officer's eyes flick to it. He was gonna remove it himself if she didn't. 'I thought your race mated logically,' Clayton added.

'Most do,' Spock said, eyebrow dropping, eyes narrowing, 'however, we are also capable of mating for _love_, and I am only half-Vulcan. Now, _remove yourself from my bond-mate_.'

Thankfully, Clayton removed her hand. While Jim didn't really _like _her, he didn't want Spock to maim her. He'd no doubt be annoyed later over his current behaviour, but would state that it had been logical to his warrior mind; Clayton was currently a threat, and there was nothing that Spock wouldn't do to remove someone who threatened his bond-mate.

'Seriously?' Clayton asked. 'The infamous Jim Kirk _bonded_?'

'We have been together three years, bonded for two, and Starfleet aware of our relationship for two point nine three years. I am telling you this so that you will understand why I have to resort to physical violence if you do not _move away from him immediately_.'

She finally slid away, Spock glaring down at her, and Jim bit his bottom lip. He loved dominant!Spock. Damn sexy.

Spock stood taller, but his hands were still at his sides, giving away just how emotional he currently was. He usually held himself impossibly rigid, hands behind him to avoid both accidental touches, and himself giving into his human emotions. It was his _Vulcan _emotions that were currently taking over, and Jim knew that they were far more potent than anything a human could feel.

Oh, yeah; _definitely _getting some possessive sex. This night had turned out alright, after all.

'I suggest that you remember this encounter the next time you wish to pursue someone who is clearly not interested in your feelings, and stated on no less than fourteen occasions that he was in a committed relationship,' Spock said, voice hard. 'Next time you might not meet a race that are as capable as I am at holding back their more primitive urges.'

Spock's eyes finally found Jim's again, and Jim perked up despite the anger evident in the chocolate brown depths.

He was sure that he had some chocolate somewhere, and felt Spock's lust radiate over the bond.

'Jim, you are leaving with me, now,' Spock ordered; and it _was _an order. One that Jim was happy to obey.

'Yeah,' he grinned, 'yeah, okay!'

He practically fell out of the booth, and half atop Lieutenant Clayton when she tried to get out of the way. Spock growled audibly when Jim helped her steady herself, and Jim quickly removed his hand, head bent in submission. It was another by-product of their bond; while there was no clear "dom" in their everyday relationship, Spock usually topped during sex, and Jim really did love bottoming for him. He could go either way, in all honesty, as long as he and Spock were naked and moaning and eventually coming.

But when Spock was like this? All warrior-Vulcan and pissed off and one touch away from snapping? Yeah, he was all dominance, which meant that Jim was all submissive. It was a mixture of the bond and their personalities coming together as mates. Spock was just more aggressive in these situations, and Jim more submissive.

Jim loved it. He hadn't told Bones that. Bones'd probably try to get him into some type of programme, like the one he wanted to send Spock to. Yes, anger was the one emotion that Spock had the most difficulty in restraining, but he didn't need _help_. Silly, silly Bones.

'Good,' Spock said, but Jim barely heard it, because Spock wrapped a firm hand around the back of his neck. The full force of Spock's current emotions slammed into him- _lust, possessiveness, jealousy, love, anger, fear, Jim-bond-mate-portect-alone_- and Jim moaned. Spock used his grip on Jim's neck to steer him out of the pub, but Jim didn't pay attention; his legs were threatening to buckle under Spock's intense feelings, which had turned into a steady rush of _Jim-love-take-mine-bond-touch-Jimjimjimjim-MINE_.

Jim had no idea how long they walked for, only that the space-station had fallen into night mode, and the air reflected that of a chilly fall night on Earth. Jim shivered, and Spock's fingers dug into his skin, warmth flushing over him and making Jim hum. Spock's anger was still there, very sharp and hot, but it had been overcome by thoughts centring around _Jim _and _bond _and _mine_. Spock needed to assert himself, needed to mark and take and bend Jim beneath him.

And Jim's bond needed it, too; hell, _Jim _needed it. Nothing made him happier than Spock showing proof that Jim was needed, wanted, _loved_. He hadn't had that until Pike, and then Bones, and then his crew and finally _Spock_. They wanted _him_, Jim, not George Kirk's son or Winona Kirk's brat or Sam Kirk's stupid little brother. Just Jim.

When Spock drew away, hand leaving Jim's neck, Jim suddenly came back to himself. It was a shock to his system; the sudden cold air, the silver steel of the space-station, the dark space and bright stars that could be seen through various glass windows to the side and overhead. Spock was a very warm, very solid presence at Jim's back, and got closer, pushing, forcing Jim against the wall of... of something, a hanger?

Spock suddenly slammed Jim against the wall, and Jim gasped, but it quickly turned into a groan when Spock's cool fingers wrapped around his wrists. His hands were forced up, over his head, and Spock's long, lean body pressed against his own. The duel sensations of cold against his back and warmth against his front made Jim whine, but Spock quickly kissed him; a soft press of lips, of warmth and commitment and acceptance. Jim's side of the bond softened, went mellow and pliant, and Jim slumped against the wall.

'Where did she touch you?' Spock demanded. His usually deep, smooth voice was rough, barely keeping itself together.

'A-Arm,' he mumbled, and sent an image along the bond. His eyes were on Spock's, and he saw the Vulcan's darken when Clayton entered his mind.

Spock snarled and dropped one hand to grip Jim's arm. He rubbed and stroked, tugged at Jim's shirt and dug his fingers into Jim's jacket. Spock was scent-marking him; his heightened Vulcan senses could smell her perfume on him, and Spock didn't like that; he never liked that. Every night, when they slid into bed, Spock would roll all over Jim and kiss him to make Jim smell of Spock _only. _Nobody would ever believe Jim if he told them; Spock really was just like a cat.

With that done, Spock glanced up, and Jim knew what he wanted.

'Chin and neck,' he said.

Clayton's fingers had ghosted over his neck, had gripped his chin more than once, and Spock grit his teeth, lips pulled back in a silent snarl as he saw exactly what had happened.

He leapt forward, face slamming into Jim's neck, and Jim moaned as cool, soft lips rubbed over his skin. Spock pulled Jim's jacket and shirt aside to get at his collar bone, his shoulder, rubbing as much of himself against Jim as he could. He moved up to Jim's chin before moving back down, his tongue joining in and making Jim shiver.

'Spock,' he gasped when Spock sank his teeth into the part that Clayton had pinched. Spock growled in satisfaction when Jim tilted his head, giving Spock more room. The Vulcan sucked back to form a mark, one that would tell everybody that Jim was _his_; his to hold, to mark, to mate.

'_Mine_,' he growled and moved, biting another mark, licking another inch of skin, over and over until he reached Jim's chin and did it all over again.

Jim could do nothing but accept it- didn't want to _do _anything but accept it- and just moaned and twisted in Spock's grasp. Spock's hands had moved back up, firmly holding Jim's own hands above his head, and Jim groaned when Spock's hips thrust forward, grinding against Jim's.

'S-Spock!' he groaned. Spock growled in approval and shifted until he could slip one strong, muscled thigh between Jim's legs. He _pushed_, and Jim jolted, entire body shuddering at the sudden pleasure. It wasn't just his lust, but Spock's, as well as satisfaction as their bond strengthened, happy that they were now together, that they both knew once more who they belonged to.

Spock went back to sucking and kissing at Jim's neck, and Jim made a bunch of highly embarrassing noises as Spock sank his sharp, perfect teeth into Jim's soft skin. He bit harshly, but his rough tongue was gentle as it laved over the marks, soothing Jim and making sure that he knew what was happening.

Seriously, Spock was a cat; he'd bite, but always made sure Jim knew that he didn't mean any harm.

'Again,' Jim begged.

Enjoyment flared from Spock's side of the bond, and Jim grinned. He tilted his head again and rubbed himself against Spock's thigh, his cock steadily filling out, hardening, leaking already into his Starfleet-issue boxers as Spock nibbled at his flesh.

'Who do you belong to?' Spock demanded and ground his thigh harder against Jim. Jim arched up, head tiled, and whimpered. '_Who_?'

'Y-You,' Jim gasped. 'You, always you, _t'hy'la_.' He sent the same thoughts and feeling through their bond, and again Spock growled in satisfaction. He grabbed Jim's chin, touch burning and accepting and _gorgeous _compared to the Lieutenant's.

Spock slammed their mouths together, finally kissing his Captain after however long he'd spent marking Jim. Jim whined against Spock's lips until Spock let his hands go, opened his mouth. Jim's tongue snaked out, plundering Spock's mouth and stroking his own tongue. He pushed his fingers through Spock's perfect, silky black hair, tugging on the strands to pull Spock closer.

Spock conceded, rubbing himself all over Jim, making sure that Jim smelt like _him _and him only; not that woman, or the pub, or _McCoy_; just Spock, only Spock, _always Spock_.

Jim whined again when an image of him and Spock entered his mind; Jim, bent over the bed, Spock licking and kissing and touching every single millimetre of Jim's skin, before finally licking over his ass, his balls, his _cock_. Because those were Spock's, too; always.

A loud, sharp sound pierced Jim's muddled thoughts, and Spock pulled away, a snarl starting in his chest and slipping out of his mouth. He kept himself plastered against Jim, body angled to hide the human from whoever had interrupted them.

It was Bones, looking disturbed, like he always did when he caught Jim and Spock "going at it like horny tribbles, you bastards".

'B-Bones?' Jim gasped, and felt Spock's annoyance spear through him. Right, _don't _say another man's name when Spock's in overprotective-mate mode. _Bad, Jim, bad!_

'Given Spock's, ah... _situation_,' Bones said slowly, 'get the fuck to your quarters, or back to the ship. 'Cause if anyone sees ya and interrupts, Spock's liable to murder 'em.'.

Spock had already dismissed Bones as not being a threat, and was back to sucking a fresh hickey into Jim's neck. Jim groaned but got what Bones was saying; Spock would be _pissed _if anyone else saw him acting like this, or if anyone stumbled across them and saw Jim naked. And Jim didn't really want anyone seeing his Vulcan naked, either.

'Yeah, that's- _ah_- that's a... g-good idea,' Jim said and tugged on Spock's hair. Spock growled, not happy, but Jim pulled harder. The Vulcan finally looked up, anger and lust and _mine _clouding his eyes. Jim swallowed thickly and said, 'Bed.' Spock frowned. '_Bed_,' the Captain repeated. He pushed his ass off the wall, grinding himself against Spock, and Spock shivered. Jim sent warmth and privacy and comfort through the bond as he said, 'Don't want anyone to see me, yeah?'

Where they were, and what they were doing, finally got through to Spock, who nodded and stepped back. He kept himself close, though, and when Jim straightened, Spock's strong fingers curled around his wrist and tugged.

Jim bit his lip to hold in another embarrassing noise, and allowed Spock to pull him into the hanger. Ah, it was a transporter, meaning that Spock wanted him and Jim in their quarters; they smelled like them, mixed together, and were safe, private. Spock could control the environment. Spock could make Jim _his_.

Spock snapped at the two technicians working the console, and both jumped. Usually Jim would offer a smile, an apology, for his seemingly rude Senior Science Officer, but he was too far gone for that now. He just let Spock steer him until he was standing on a pad, and watched as Spock took his own, eyes never leaving Jim, even as he said, 'Energise!'

'Bones?' Jim asked the doctor, who was standing just before them.

'Ah, think I'll take the next ride up,' Bones said.

'Oh... 'kay,' Jim said, confused but smiling all the same. Whatever.

The familiar feeling of beaming spread through Jim's body, and between one blink and the next he and Spock were standing in the transporter room aboard the _Enterprise. _Ensigns Michaels and Ka-el-eeth were on beta shift, and both smiled and nodded politely, but Spock ignored them.

Jim decided that it was safer not to acknowledge them, and let Spock drag him off of the transporter and from the room. Spock was a Vulcan on a mission, not stopping or looking back, not saying a word as he made his way towards the closest turbolift. Jim thanked the stars that they were almost the exact same height, because it would be impossible to keep up with Spock otherwise.

Spock slammed a hand against the turbolift door when it failed to open immediately, and Jim giggled when he was dragged inside. Spock pushed him against the back wall and crowded against Jim, making Jim smile and wrap his arms around Spock's neck.

When the door closed, Spock pressed the emergency stop button.

'Yeah?' Jim grinned.

Spock's eyes narrowed.

'What?' Jim asked.

'She touched you,' Spock muttered, like Jim didn't know that; like this whole situation hadn't happened because some Terran woman hadn't kept her hands to herself.

'Yeah,' Jim agreed and bit his lip. Spock seemed to be coming back to himself, now that they were alone and on familiar ground. He was still volatile, still warrior-Vulcan, but there was some cool, Vulcan logic back in his dark eyes. 'What are you gonna do about that?' Jim asked and pushed up, crotch pressed against Spock's.

Spock's eyes darkened once more, and Jim supposed that he should feel a teensy bit bad about prodding Spock, about teasing him, but really... hot Vulcan sex!

Spock's hands dropped to Jim's waist before moving up, his eyes never leaving Jim's as he stroked the Captain's covered stomach, chest, shoulders. Finally he grabbed the zipper of Jim's jacket and pulled, pushing the material down and off. It fell to the floor and Jim shivered, did so again more violently when Spock's fingers pushed up his black undershirt to touch smooth, toned skin.

'Yeah,' Jim breathed, eyes at half-mast, 'that's it, Spock.'

Spock's chest rumbled, a growl threatening to break free, and Jim helped it along by moving a hand to stroke one of Spock's ears. The growl turned into a very loud purr, and Spock's eyes slid closed. His hands continued to inch Jim's shirt up.

Jim grinned and scratched the skin and light dusting of hair behind Spock's pointed ear, and Spock shivered, eyes snapping open. They were practically black, and Jim's grin widened. Spock growled properly this time and Jim almost lost an ear when Spock tore his shirt up and off. That'd probably have to be mended.

Not to be outdone, Jim attacked Spock's jacket and shirt, Spock not making it easier by trying to attach his mouth to Jim's nipples. He moaned and whined and slapped Spock lightly, and finally managed to get Spock as naked as he was. As soon as their bare skin touched, Spock threw Jim to the floor, his body cushioned by their discarded clothing.

Spock pounced, and Jim let his legs fall open, wrapping them around Spock's waist when the older man pressed against him. Jim's moan was swallowed by Spock's mouth as he kissed him, hot, hard and delicious. Spock always tasted odd; spicy, smoky, just a bit too different from a human for Jim not to notice. It was like his natural scent; Spock didn't sweat, but when he was worked up, or tired, he smelled like fresh earth after a thunderstorm, or maybe sand, but without that hint of salt and odour that all humans had.

Jim gasped when Spock kissed and licked across his cheek, his jaw, up to his ear to trace the shell. He tried to thrust up but Spock was too heavy, so Spock ground down, trapped erection trying desperately to press against Jim's despite the layers of clothing.

The door opened without either noticing, probably having moved after being in stasis for so long, but the shouted, 'Un-fucking-believable!' caught their attention.

Jim managed to look to the side, and saw Bones in the doorway, annoyance and disgust clear on his face.

'Your quarters are _two decks up, Jim_!' he snapped.

'Er... sorry?' Jim grinned, not sorry in the slightest.

Spock, of course, growled, leapt to his feet, and slammed the button to close the door. 'Deck Two!'

The turbolift started moving, and Spock turned to tug Jim to his feet. Jim grabbed their clothes and grinned when he noted that Spock's eyes were on his crotch.

'Soon, baby,' he winked. Spock raised an eyebrow, but the heated look hadn't left his eyes. Jim shivered. Sexy times, here he came!

The door finally opened, and Spock moved immediately, hand once again firm around Jim's wrist. Jim let himself be tugged, and soon enough they'd reached the Captain's quarters. Well, Captain-First Officer's quarters, since Spock had moved in over two years ago.

Spock entered his password and the door slid open, shutting as soon as Jim was through.

'Computer, Override Four-Seven-Seven-Alpha-Two,' Spock ordered, 'and lights at forty-three percent.'

'_Override Code Confirmed, Commander Spock_,' the computer replied, followed by the lights brighting slightly, just enough for Jim's poorer human eyesight to see Spock.

Spock nodded once, sharply, in satisfaction, and then turned to Jim. 'You are overdressed, Captain.'

Jim grinned. 'As my First Officer, you should _definitely _help.'

Spock growled and crossed the distance between them in a single step. His long, pale fingers went to Jim's waistband, and waisted no time in pulling at the button, the zipper. His mouth was occupied with Jim's, lips hard, teeth biting, tongue licking everything he could reach.

Jim grunted into the kiss and grabbed at Spock's pants, dropping their shirts and jackets as he did. He more hindered than helped, and Spock eventually batted his hands away. They had to break apart to get their boots and socks off, and Jim finally tossed his boxers over his back, hearing them hit the bookcase in the corner.

Spock didn't wear underwear. It was _illogical_. Jim had never been more thankful for Vulcan logic when he'd first heard those words.

Spock grabbed Jim's hips and manhandled him onto he bed, forcing Jim onto all fours before placing a firm hand between Jim's shoulder blades and _pushing_. Jim could nothing but go along with, and let his top half be pushed down. He grabbed a pillow and stuck it under his hand, fingers clutching at the cool fabric as Spock climbed onto the mattress behind him.

Spock's lips were warm, now, and no doubt a faint green from all their kissing. They ghosted over Jim's back from right to left, methodically touching every inch of Jim they could. Jim just hummed and enjoyed the lull in their passion; it was still there, thrumming beneath the surface, but it had cooled somewhat. It would awaken shortly, take over, until Spock thrust into Jim and made him scream the First Officer's name.

Soon the lips changed to tongue, and then teeth, and then all three combined, but Jim couldn't find the pattern, Spock wasn't being logical. One second he'd bite Jim's neck, and then lick Jim's spine, and then kiss and nuzzle Jim's hip, followed by a harsh bite to Jim's shoulder blade.

Their lust built and built, every action adding onto the one before, every feeling one of them had sent to the other adding to their passion, like a cycle, until Jim was squirming and thrusting slightly into the air. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, dripping steadily onto the sheets, and every time Spock kissed him, touched him, _breathed on him_, it made Jim harder.

Finally, _finally_, Spock leaned down and licked across his entrance, making Jim gasp and grunt his feelings aloud.

Spock chuckled, and Jim knew that he was _really _gone, then. Spock never laughed if he had full control of himself.

'Come on, Spock,' Jim moaned, face half-buried in his pillow. 'Just do it!'

Instead, Spock licked again, and again, shoving his tongue as far in as he could. Jim couldn't help but thrust back, pleasure radiating from his ass throughout the rest of his body. It felt wonderful, like always, but Jim wanted something bigger, something _thicker_, and Spock was being a goddamn-

'_Oh_,' he gasped when a slick finger slid into his ass. The liquid was warm, telling Jim that it was Spock's natural lubricant, not the gel that Jim kept in abundance in their bedside table. It was always hot and made Jim's insides tingle. 'Oh,' he moaned again when another finger joined, scissoring, circling, stretching Jim open for thick Vulcan cock. 'Oh, yeah, that's it!' he praised, and felt amusement sizzle through his mind, courtesy of Spock. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah!' he hissed when a third finger made his muscles burn and quiver.

He'd always been a loud lover; loud enough to make up for Spock's near-silent love making. But Spock would be loud tonight, Jim knew it. He was always was when they had jealous/possessive/stay-the-HELL-away-from-my-mate sex.

'Come _on_, Spock!' he finally hissed when Spock started playing with, but not actually _touching_, his prostate. 'Just do it! Make me yours!'

Spock froze, and Jim licked his lips before thrusting back, forcing Spock's long fingers that little bit deeper.

'I'm yours, yeah?' he breathed heavily. 'Show me. Make me yours!'

He was a bad, bad starship captain. _Very bad!_

But it was worth it when Spock growled and slid his fingers free. Jim heard Spock rubbing his cock, making sure that he was sufficiently slick for anal sex. Then there were hot hands on his hips, fingers and nails digging in to roll Jim onto his back. He'd been hoping for a little bit of doggy style, but whatever; as long as Spock fucked him good and hard, he didn't care.

Spock grabbed his chin, much like that woman had earlier, forcing Jim to look at him. Spock's eyes were dark, narrowed, swept-up eyebrows furrowed.

'Yours,' Jim whispered, reaching up to touch one of those delicious ears. Seriously, he had an ear fetish. A Spock-ear-fetish. They were just damn irresistible.

A faint note of amusement reached Jim from Spock, and Jim smiled, but it was quickly gone. Spock lined himself up and pushed, cock breaching Jim's muscles, quickly swallowed, welcomed. Jim moaned as Spock bottomed out, and a litany of _Jim-mine-mate-t'hy'la-James-mineminemineJimMINE _filled Jim from where their bodies connected, spreading throughout and making Jim that much hotter.

The bond was abuzz, and Jim's body was on fire, and Spock was long, just thick enough. He started moving almost immediately, sliding out only to slam back in, and Jim's entire body jolted up the bed so much that he had to grab the metal headboard to keep in place. He wrapped his legs firmly around Spock's waist, trying to hold on, as Spock fucked him like his life depended on it.

'Yeah!' Jim moaned. 'Fuck, Spock, right there!'

Spock rolled his hips, adjusted his angle (probably to within point whatever degrees), and when he slid back in, his cock hit Jim's prostate.

'FUCK!' the blonde shouted, and felt Spock's satisfaction mix with his own. The mattress bounced beneath them, and Jim moaned and cursed, muttered Spock's name between pants and thrusts. Spock's own breathing was laboured, mouth parted as mumbles fell from his lips. His eyes were locked onto Jim, like no force could pull him away.

Jim whined when Spock stopped thrusting briefly to grind into his prostate. His hands were firm on Jim's hips, gripping despite the sweat that now slicked Jim's body.

'Spock!' Jim groaned. 'Spock, Spock, Spock-'

'_Mine_,' Spock interrupted in a deep, possessive growl.

'Yours,' Jim gasped, 'yours, always yours. Never parted.'

'Always touching,' Spock replied.

So Jim had bastardised one of Vulcan's traditional bonding vows, so what? He'd never _part _from Spock, damn it.

The bond grew heavier as their emotions were heightened, their pleasure reaching higher peaks, and Spock raised his right hand as he continued to fuck into Jim's body.

'Do it,' Jim said without having to be asked, 'please.'

Spock pressed his fingers to Jim's face, finding the mind melds without needing to look. 'My mind to your mind.'

'_My thoughts to your thoughts_,' he said silently, and Jim echoed the words.

Almost immediately Jim was overwhelmed. Spock's mind was cold, but not unwelcoming; organised without being sterile. Everything was a cool blue mixed with white, the colours beneath them red and hot, like the sands of Vulcan. It contrasted sharply with Jim's mind, which was cluttered, bright, a thrumming sensation of liquid gold and warmth. Their minds melded, became one yet remained two, thoughts and feelings swirling together, connecting, but still clinging to their owners.

It was like Jim was fucking Spock and being fucked by Spock at the same time; like he was holding onto the cold, sweat-stained headboard and gripping Jim's hip, his face; like he was watching Spock's beautiful, pale face collapse beneath the pressure of love and passion, while at the same time watching _Jim's _face brighten and crumple and break.

It built and built, love and devotion and passion and _mine-yours-yours-mine _connecting, spilling into every crevice, converging and layering and _t'hy'la_!

Jim came with a shout of Spock's name, of curses in Standard and a few other languages, while above him, beneath him, all around him Spock did the same, 'Jim!' and '_T'hy'la_!' and a snarled '_MINE!_' all breaking free from the normally cool, controlled half-Vulcan.

Jim was filled, and spilled onto his stomach, their connection making the pleasure that much more potent and encompassing. Jim moaned as he flailed, dragging Spock closer and closer until the First Officer collapsed atop him, barely managing not to crush Jim beneath him. The meld was broken when Spock slipped onto his side, and Jim came back to himself at once. He was cold; Spock was still in his mind, always would be, but he wasn't there _completely_. The mess on his stomach, and trickling down his inner thighs, was already cooling, and Jim's muscles ached, while his mind felt heavy and sated and _tired_.

'Computer,' Spock murmured, sound equally wrecked, 'please raise the temperature by four point three degrees.'

'_Affirmative_,' the computer replied.

Jim and Spock had to compromise on the temperature, because Spock felt comfortable at 35.88 degrees, while Jim felt comfortable at 24.5. So their quarters were usually between 29 and 32, depending on how they felt. It was kept a bit lower, though, when they slept, because Spock could use Jim as his own, personal, human-shaped hot water bottle.

Which he did now, after getting up to clean them both. He replicated some tissues, wiped down Jim's stomach and ass, and then tossed them into the recycler. Jim managed to climb beneath the covers and Spock joined him, immediately wrapping a firm, possessive arm around Jim's shoulders. Jim let his head fall onto Spock's warm chest and sighed, nuzzling a bit.

After a few minutes of silence, Spock murmured, 'I apologise for my behaviour.'

Jim chuckled. 'Already told you, you don't have to, Spock. I get it.'

'I know that you do,' Spock said, still sounding a bit stiff, 'however-'

'But nothing,' Jim interrupted.

'I did not say "but".'

Jim laughed and sat up to press his lips to Spock's. Spock opened up immediately, and Jim hummed when they slowly broke their kiss. 'I _get it_, Spock,' he repeated. 'I act the same way sometimes, remember? Especially after your _pon farr_.' Spock just nodded, and Jim sighed. He reached beneath the blankets and found Spock's left hand. Pressing his index and middle fingers together, Jim slowly stroked Spock's, and watched as Spock shivered, his lips twitching into a smile. 'I like you showing that you want me, Spock, that I'm _yours_,' Jim insisted. 'I'm not lying.'

'I know,' Spock said. He could feel Jim's sincerity through the bond, and brought Jim down for another human kiss, while they exchanged Vulcan kisses beneath the covers. 'Thank you,' Spock murmured against Jim's lips.

'Not a problem,' Jim said. 'Honestly. I _love _possessive!Spock.'

Spock's eyes rolled up towards the ceiling- the closest to a human eye-roll he'd ever get- and Jim laughed. He kissed Spock twice more- once with his lips, and again with his fingers- before settling back down.

'I will apologise to Doctor McCoy tomorrow,' Spock murmured.

'He'll understand, too,' Jim mumbled through a yawn.

'And yet he will feel the need to, as you say, "act like a grouchy bastard", for a number of days.'

Jim giggled. 'Tha's jus' Bones,' he slurred.

'You should rest,' Spock said, voice low, hand carding through Jim's hair.

'Mm,' Jim agreed, eyes already shut. 'S'nice,' he added when Spock scratched his scalp.

Spock's amusement reached Jim over the bond, and Jim chuckled as he snuggled into the Vulcan's chest. Spock pressed a kiss to Jim's hair and murmured, 'Sleep, my _t'hy'la_.'

_'Night, my sexy, possessive Vulcan,_'Jim thought at his mate with a grin, and for once did as he was told; he was asleep seconds later.

* * *

{The End}

* * *

**Author's Note: **Spock is definitely OOC in this, but as I've said, I LOVE possessive!Spock, and I like to think that, sometimes, his Vulcan and human emotions overtake his calm logic, especially where Jim's concerned. Jim is HIS mate and that small, animal-warrior part of him needs to make Jim HIS if other people touch him. I hope that makes sense :p

Cheers,

{IBegToDreamAndDiffer}


End file.
